


Diarahan

by Lia404



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Aftercare, Body Worship, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Light BDSM, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Safeword Use, Shuakeshu Artist Server Secret Santa, Slapping, So Much Aftercare, Trust, aftercare is everything, use of keyword
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:21:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28293750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lia404/pseuds/Lia404
Summary: Sometimes you feel like experimenting new things.This Christmas, Akira and Goro feel like getting out of their comfort zone.(...And it is also true for the author. Mind the tags!)Fluffy and kinky for Caramel for the Shuakeshu Artist Server Secret Santa!
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 8
Kudos: 100
Collections: Shuakeshu Artist Server's Secret Santa Fics





	Diarahan

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays, [Caramel](https://twitter.com/caramelatnight)! Your prompt was sooo wide, NSFW with kink and fluff.  
> Considering I'm not super at ease with either NSFW or super-fluffy, this was quite a challenge to write and I hope you will still enjoy it.
> 
> Also, it takes a village, but honestly, this story would have been NOTHING without the intense prompting of both [Tomi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tomi_Lang) and [Curos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dcuros), who not only encouraged me all the way through this trip out of my comfort zone but were nice enough to help me speed-beta. What a ride.

Akira is so exhausted he feels like he’s about to collapse.

For a reason Akira can’t fathom, Ann decided that _since Shiho is away for Christmas and I can’t have my happy fluffy lovers’ day with the best girlfriend in the world, we should all gather and have a friends’ day instead_!

Akira has always been weak for friends’ day. Akira has always been weak to his friends’ whims in general. It annoys Goro to no end, but there isn’t much Akira could refuse his friends.

(Not when he’s already been ready to die twice for them. Honestly. Not when he’s missed them so much after a year back to his hometown. Not when they’ve done so much for him when he looked for Goro and— _this isn’t about your friends, Akira, focus_.)

So Akira called for a gathering, and really, it’s funny how his friends always feel like he’s still the leader calling for things when he actually only let Ann claim Leblanc for the whole day, and decorate, and spread Christmas cheer all over the rustic cafe, while he and Futaba and Goro hovered on the side.

It was nice seeing everyone, eating Haru’s best cakes, staring in awe at Yusuke’s latest masterpiece, sharing college stories. It was _also_ nice seeing everyone leave, happy with their day, the cheerful atmosphere of Christmas still spread like a veil of carelessness above them all as they scattered in the night.

Akira had fun. He’s pretty sure Goro had fun too, even though he’s not comfortable enough to fully display it yet.

Still. This _isn’t_ how Akira envisioned Christmas at all, as the carefully-wrapped present still hidden in the wardrobe can attest. He knows Goro’s present is ready too. Goro literally ordered him outside the room so he could wrap it and hide it.

(Akira doesn’t mind being ordered by Goro at all. At all. Actually, _that_ was part of the original Christmas plans.)

But now, Goro is slightly moody from the extended social time, and it’s 10pm, and they’re finally alone in the attic, and Akira is so exhausted he feels like he’s about to collapse.

Except he is _not_ going to, because he’s been planning for this for too long.

He shakes himself, gives Goro a tired and apologetic smile, and asks:

“So, uh… I know we had plans and uh, we kind of deviated. But... Do you still feel up for gift time, or would you rather we do it tomorrow morning?”

Goro arches an eyebrow.

“What? Too tired you feel like you can’t handle anything I could give you right now, _Kurusu_?”

And, _oh_ . Akira is now sure that Goro is _definitely_ in _a mood_ , but _not_ the annoyed one he thought he was in.  
As Goro cheekily licks his lower lip, Akira determines that there is _no_ about-to-collapse-state that can ruin what he planned for tonight _now_.

He shakes the exhaustion away, places back a smirk on his face, and goes to the wardrobe.

Beside his present, Goro’s is waiting, just as carefully wrapped (if not better—present-wrapping is a competition like and other, after all), and _of course_ Goro wouldn’t bother trying to find a better hiding place anyway. It's always the wardrobe. He knows Akira wouldn't dare open the package without his approval, anyway.

Akira takes a deep breath and picks up his present.

He isn’t sure what makes him so nervous about it. They have tried _a lot of things_ in the year they’ve been together, once demiurges and corrupt politicians and no-being-dead-at-all and completing high-school had finally been dealt with.

Honestly, the present is a bit of a joke. It’s silly. 

(But it’s also something he really, really wants to try out, and maybe that’s why he’s nervous about Goro’s reaction.)

Goro mirrors him, and they sit on the couch and trade gifts.

“Open it first,” Goro says in a voice Akira can’t refuse.

He tears the paper and reveals a shiny golden tube which says _High Quality Hand Cream_.

Well.

It was _not_ something he expected to receive today. Akira throws a questioning look at his boyfriend, who merely shrugs it off. “Your jobs are so demanding. The flower shop, the grocery-handling… You never take time to rest and it shows. Your hands are always so dry, so hurt by your everyday struggle. Take it as a reminder that you are allowed to take care of yourself.”

Akira gapes. He _really_ didn’t expect such mindfulness, not today, not when their relationship has always been more about competing than _pampering_ .  
He’s about to voice it out, when Goro’s mouth spreads into a smirk. “...and if you don’t remember, _I_ will gladly take it upon myself to _remind you that I can take care of you_.”

And, _oh_ , again. The _mood_ is still here, and isn’t it perfect, after all, isn’t it what Akira planned at first?

He nods, still dumbstruck.

“Cat got your tongue, Akira?” Goro’s smirk widens. “This isn’t how you should answer when you receive a gift, but since you got me something, I’ll let it go.”

Akira nods again with more reverence and gestures to the still-wrapped gift in Goro’s hand.

“Right, my turn. So, what do we have here…”

Goro gives a shake. Akira shudders, still unsure of the reaction of the other boy.  
It was so _tacky_ . It was a joke, but also _not really_ and…

“...ah.”

Goro’s done carefully unwrapping the paper. He mindlessly smooths it down with his right hand, while his left hand brings the box to eye level so he can examine it better.

“Fluffy handcuffs, Akira? Is that a message?”

( _YES_ _IT IS._ )

Akira clears up his throat.

“They’re… blue and black. And they have… Feathers. They reminded me of you?”

He tries for a carefree smile, but Goro isn’t duped. Akira follows the garnet eyes as they narrow and gauge him.

“They reminded you… of me… or of the _things_ you want me to do?”

And really, it’s a rhetorical question and they both know it.

“I…”

Akira is so exhausted, but it wouldn’t be fair to say it’s the only reason why he feels like he’s about to collapse right now.

Goro appraises him for a while and seems to come to an understanding. He stands from the couch and pulls Akira back on his feet.

“Are you sure, Akira?”

Akira looks down at the fluffy handcuffs on the couch and nods.

(They’ve tried a lot of things already but this, _this_ , he really wants to try, just be at Goro’s mercy, just trusting him fully…)

Goro frowns.

(...but maybe it doesn’t bode well yet?)

“Use your words. For this evening, you need to use your words. I am not going to read you. I am going to listen to you. Every sound you make, every little breath, I will listen. But I want you to _speak up_.”

Akira swallows and nods again.

“I… really want to try it, Goro. I know you… I think I am ready. _Mudoon_.”

Funny how spells still carry their power through words even with the Metaverse gone. Goro’s eyes widen before they grow darker, and that’s it, Akira has set the stage—he’s given the go, he’s allowed his boyfriend to ravage him, inflict him some _damages_ he’ll be more than glad to welcome.

Goro’s back straightens. His smirk betrays a hint of teeth, now.

“ _Hamaon_ . So that’s how you want it, now, _thief_. We’ve played enough of your games. Time for your punishment. Undress at once and lay down on the bed.”

There they are.

The scene is starting. Akira shivers at Goro’s merciless tone, obeys at once. He fumbles with his clothes. Gone is the allure he can display sometimes; Akira’s just doing his best to please Goro, _his Goro_ , the dangerous detective who caught the annoying thief, as fast as possible. He almost trips on his way to the bed, hastily lies down.

(And isn’t it good that Akira finally got his own double bed he built himself in the attic when he came back for college? It _is_ , he thinks as his eyes eagerly follow Goro’s motions towards him.)

Goro lets out a small, cold laugh. He’s still fully clothed, so dignified compared to Akira’s clumsiness that Akira can only stare, entranced.  
Watching Goro let loose and accept to play this game is fascinating. It’s like allowing the ruthlessness back. Akira knows how much Goro misses this short time when he could let it all out while still being on their side.  
Akira _loves_ how it seeps through Goro’s every expression when they’re in a scene. Goro’s eyes are burning through him. His face is distorted with _emotions_ , things he represses most of the time but allows to let go now.

Goro snarls. “Don’t get lost in your thoughts, _thief_ . You’re _not_ going anywhere.”

The handcuffs click shut, effectively tying Akira to the headboard. Akira gives a tentative pull to no avail.

He’s trapped and at Goro’s mercy.

A shudder of excitement courses through him.

_(Finally finally finally they’re doing it.)_

Goro’s above him in no time, his hands caressing the whole body. He’s still fully clothed, his leather gloves leaving burning trails on Akira’s torso. Akira gives in to the sensation, letting small sounds escape from his mouth in spite of himself.

“I have you now, _thief_ . You’re _mine_.”

Goro spits out the last word. Akira shudders. The friction of Goro’s clothes on his bare skin is scorching. The hands are merciless, pinching, grasping. 

Akira sighs.

Goro’s voice is so cold, but his body is so _hot_ against Akira.

So _alive_.

Akira’s thoughts drift as he willfully lets his body react to Goro’s ruthless manhandling. The hands go from nipples they abuse to thighs they pinch, and he can feel it all, and he’s so _glad_ for the feeling, so glad to let these hands abuse his body. Akira slowly becomes putty in the skillful hands that mark him, make him whimper and shudder, make him hurt just that delightful balance of pleasure and pain.

Goro lets out a dark chuckle

“Look at yourself… Like a puppet in my hands… Of course I had to catch you, I couldn’t well let you get away with _this_ …”

Goro’s hand suddenly closes on Akira’s erection, and it sends shivers through his whole body. Akira bites down a whine. It’s not enough to prevent Goro from hearing it. The detective raises his head and meets Akira’s eyes in mock-surprise.

“Oh? Does this sound mean we are in agreement then? Surely, this is unlawful…”

Goro gives a harsh pull.

Akira trembles, moans. His nails are firmly planted in the inside of his hands as he struggles against the handcuffs.

And suddenly, there’s a shift in his body. He can barely feel the feathers—it’s only metal biting at his wrists, and a sudden jolt of unwelcome pain, as his drifting thoughts settle on an image that has nothing to do with—

It’s a lot, maybe it’s too much, he’s not sure. Goro’s eyes are burning cold. Goro is showing a face of pure disdain and Akira—Akira knows it’s the scene, but he’s also—the metal against his wrist—

He swallows a sob at the overwhelming sensation, but in the back of his head there’s—“...Really, you shouldn’t be allowed to walk out of it. It’s no wonder someone would sue you over this…”

 _Sue_ …?

Akira shakes, his head is swimming, his body a mess of sensations as Goro keeps on toying with his dick and his voice is so close to his ear. The wave of exhaustion crashes over him, making him forget his actual situation. 

All at once, he only hears the harsh words, and his arousal is confusing—it wasn’t the right night for this in the end, maybe—maybe he wasn’t as ready as he thought—suddenly the bed feels so cold, cold as metal, cold as Goro’s voice, cold as the ice settling around Akira’s heart…

 _I’ll sue.  
_ _Metal handcuffs.  
_ _The pain.  
_ _The cold._

Akira openly whimpers, and fights with himself. He can still go on, he _wants_ this, he’s been wanting this for so long, wanting to let Goro have his way with him for so, so long, but now, even with his body still reacting to the warmth seeping through Goro’s gloves, he’s not—he’s—  
He’s never said _stop_ before, would it be a failure?  
 _There’s no failure in a scene. It’s just trust._

 _But I trust him_.

And really, rationally, Akira trusts Goro with his life, but the feeling of the gloves, and the bruises that are starting to form at his wrists—and there’s no way for Goro to know only from is behaviour, from the sounds Akira might made, because it's a scene and that's how they do it, and this is the reason why Goro has explicitly told him to _use his words_.

 _Megidolaon_ is on the tip of Akira's tongue, but he swallows it. No need, not yet, no need to alert, Akira wants to go _further_ , to get back into it, not to deprive Goro from the full experience by asking to tone it down a little.

Goro’s eyes are still piercing through him, unaware of his inner struggle, because the tension, the whimpers—it could be a regular physical reaction. It is not only Akira who trusts Goro. It is Goro who trusts Akira to let him know when it’s too much. But it's not too much yet, right? Akira can still get back into it.

“What’s wrong, _thief_ ? Too much for you? Do you want to try to get out? Maybe I can _offer you a deal you won’t refuse_?”

Akira’s vision is turning black, his mind going to a place he doesn’t want it to go. He wants to stay here, he wants to experience it, he’s been waiting for this, he just needs to find back the mood, return to the game.

He inhales deeply.

“A deal, _detective_ ? What could you _need_ from a _thief_ like me, I wonder? Maybe… A _hand_?”

 _Slap_.

“Know your place, filthy _thief_ . You have no place to bargain here. _I_ make the rules, don’t expect your so-called _justice_ to have any meaning.”

The sneer is clear on Goro’s face. He’s wholly into it. Akira is trying, too, but the unexpected slap makes his mind reel. Soon enough, his vision starts swimming black again, memories of pain and unjust games overtaking his brain—which promptly shuts down.

Akira closes his eyes so hard tears start spilling. He throws his head on the side. He doesn’t want to be a source of disappointment, it is…

 _It is how a scene works, and I’m doing the right thing_.

But it’s so hard. Akira takes a deep breath, but it’s a whine that gets out.

“Goro...I…”

He’s sure Goro is smirking. He’s sure Goro is having fun. Goro _can’t know if Akira doesn't speak_. 

Akira feels guilty. 

But they learnt how it worked together. They worked out the kinks together. The guilt would be worse if he let Goro have his way only to find out Akira’s mind wasn’t in the right place, lost in a scary, hurtful memory of a cold cell instead of having fun with him.

 _No more betrayal_ , they'd promised. Not even in the bedroom.

Akira casts a terrified glance at Goro. His voice comes out strangled.

 _“_ Goro _… Samarecarm_.”

* * *

Goro freezes and lets Akira go at once. Akira has never used the safe word before.

Goro gives up all pretense and lets his overwhelming concern show on his face.

Akira is shaking beneath him, and the safe word means he’s shaking for all the wrong reasons.

Goro’s done it—he’s gone too far. He wasn't sure, but he got carried away, he thought he could… Akira looked so eager, and he ruined it, he used the wrong words, he hit him, he _hit_ him, he failed…

_There’s no failure in a scene._

_It’s just trust_.

And Akira trusted him enough to give him the safe words.

Goro fends off the anxiety clutching his heart and jumps out of the bed. In no time, he’s at Akira’s wrists and unfastens the handcuffs.

He shakes his shirt off, removes his gloves, lets the expensive clothes unceremoniously drop on the ground. He then climbs back on the bed and gathers a shaking Akira in his arms.

“Akira. Akira, I’ve got you… You’re here, with me. You’re here.”

Akira sighs.

“I’m so sorry, Goro, I… I just… It was…”

Goro slowly wipes Akira’s tears and covers his cheeks with small, careful kisses. Then he slides his bare hand in Akira’s still trembling one and gives one squeeze.

“It’s alright, Akira. It’s alright. Look. You’re in control. You can move, you can talk.”

Akira squeezes his hand back but remains silent.

Goro marvels at how small Akira looks right now. 

(It’s not something he should marvel at, surely, but it’s such an unexpected twist, this new display of trust, and really, really…)

“Let me take care of you. Let me bring you back, Akira. Please look at me.”

Akira finally meets his eyes. He looks panicked, anguished. Goro tries to soothe him by brushing his hand through the unruly black curls of his hair.

“Akira. We’re together in this. Remember? _Diarahan_.”

Diarahan, the aftercare after a scene. Akira nods and sags against him.

“Right… _Diarahan_ … I wanted to try it so much, Goro. I wanted it to last longer. I really wanted to enjoy it...”

“Akira, we’ve had a tiring day. Maybe it was just a bad night. Will you… would you still let me take care of you? You can squeeze my hand. You can feel everything you want, you can move, say whatever you want. We’re doing it the usual way.”

Akira looks exhausted, but he nods. Goro slowly lays him back on the bed, accompanying the motion of the other’s body, cuddles him, then gathers his chin in his hand and kisses him.

The kiss is slow and salty. It betrays bitter memories Goro wants to scrub away from both their minds, their bodies. Instead, he slowly gets up. Akira lets out a questioning whine at the loss of warmth, but Goro is promptly back and has shed all his clothes this time.

He grasps Akira’s hand again. Akira squeezes, invites him to lie back. They remain sharing each other’s comforting warmth for a while before Goro grabs the hand cream he snatched while undressing.

“I told you I’d take care of you… I’ll make you feel better.”

Goro pours some of the cream on Akira’s wrists and slowly massages them, the warm scent of argan taking over their senses. He can already see Akira’s eyes becoming more focused.  
It’s good.

He’ll bring hit back to the present, away from the bitterness.

Goro slips his hand back into Akira’s, and this time, Akira’s hand gives a firmer squeeze.

They both enjoy the anchoring feeling of each other’s skin. Goro doesn’t let go as he goes back to covering Akira’s face with small kisses.

“You’re amazing, Akira. You deserve to be treated as well.”

Slowly, Goro can feel the tension leave his lover’s body. He allows himself to smile, squeezes the hand again.

“Do you even realise how amazing you are?”

His fingers trail over eyes he sweetly closes. “Your eyes… Always so attentive. Always so piercing. Always so determined…”  
Then they caress Akira’s lips. “You always… always speak your mind. Always speak up. You never ceased to amaze me… So free…”

Goro kisses Akira’s lips and let the kiss linger, let their tongues entwine. Then he moves on, kisses a trail down Akira’s neck, takes his time lavishing his torso with his tongue. His mouth focuses on a nipple while his right hand toys with the other, smoothes it softly, then lets it rest on the smooth skin of his chest.

“Your heart… Always in the right place, even in the toughest time. Always ready to welcome new people, new roaming souls. Your heart is so strong, Akira. You’re so strong.”

All the while Goro’s other hand never lets go of Akira’s.  
Akira squeezes back.

“Goro… please…”

Goro goes on, trails down, keeps on covering Akira in praises and kisses, and Akira’s hand squeezes stronger and stronger, and finally, his voice gives up on words and his throats let out small pleading whimpers.

“I’m here, Akira. I’m not going anywhere.”

Goro grabs Akira’s second hand and pulls them both, guiding them towards his own head.

“I’m here, and we’re together, and this time, you’re in control.”

Goro enjoys the feeling of Akira’s hands above his, treading through his hair. He lowers his head to Akira’s strong thighs and slowly licks, up to balls he gives his whole attention to.

Akira keens and _grasps_.

Goro smiles, the smell of argan on both their skins taking over his senses again, along with the softness of Akira’s hands under his. Here they are. Akira is ready, this time.

“You pick the pace, Akira. I’m not going anywhere. We're free. We're both free.”

And Goro dives, licks the head of Akira’s dick before taking it fully into his mouth.

Goro gets lost in Akira’s taste, a far cry from the bitterness from before. Akira’s excitement is palpable. The intensity of having the Akira’s hands in his all the while being guided through the motions that will make his lover feel good gets at Goro.

Akira’s started to thrust and for once, Goro doesn’t set the pace: he follows it, encourages it, never letting Akira’s hands go.

It doesn’t take much longer. Akira is exhausted, and so is Goro, but they still fully enjoy each other’s body until they’re both spent, Goro rutting against Akira’s skin to find release as they move together.

Then Goro slowly pulls Akira’s hands from his head and goes back to kiss him softly. Akira’s chest is heaving and his cheeks are dry this time, but Goro still pampers them with kisses again.

They remain a long time laying into each other’s arms, both of them still shaking from the overwhelming feelings and the orgasm before Akira turns to face Goro. “Thank you. I… I really thought it would be the right night, the right time…”

Goro promptly hushes him with a kiss. “Thank you for using your words.”

Akira tries to shake his head, but Goro stops him again. “Akira. I meant every word I said. You’re amazing. You are bold enough to start, and yet you keep the will to stop when others would try to endure. Thank you for trusting me.”

Akira sighs. “But I…”

“We’ll try another time, if you really want to. Another night when we’re not both exhausted. But you know, maybe it’s just… not our thing. Maybe we should try other things. I mean… it’s not like we’re short of other possibilities,” Goro lets out while casting an amused glance at their wardrobe. Along the year they’ve spent together, it has started to be the hiding place for quite an amount of _toys_ that would probably make their friends wince.

Akira follows his gaze and lets out a small smile that seems to light up the whole room.

“Right. We still have a lot of things to try. Just… Not tonight.”

“Not tonight,” Goro nods. “How about some rest?”

Akira nods and snugs. Goro’s arms close on him, letting the warmth spread through his whole body. “I know it’s not how we both envisioned it, but Merry Christmas, Akira.”

Akira doesn’t answer. His breathing has already evened—he’s asleep. His hand is still clenching Goro’s.

Goro lies awake and allows the overwhelming feeling of trust wash over him. Then, before drifting away too, he squeezes Akira's hand again and mutters:

" _Diarahan_. We'll heal together, Akira. I promise."

**Author's Note:**

> ...I confess I am quite unsure to end the year on this story but no matter what—THANK YOU FOR READING HAPPY HOLIDAYS!


End file.
